Jonathan's vision was pretty well unmistakable. Gabriel's in danger, and doesn't know it -- or at least doesn't know the specifics.

That would be enough on its own, even if Andrew didn't more or less owe him his life.

Gabriel's nowhere to be seen at Milliways, and no one seems to have run into him in the past couple of days. Well, and that's normal enough; there's no reason he'd be here all the time, and plenty of reason to make himself scarce, all things considered. Maybe he's just back home.

Please just let this not be too late.

Andrew writes out a note at the bar giving Jonathan's vision in as much detail as he can, folds it carefully in quarters, and writes "The Trickster (G.)" on the outside.

no subject

Across the room, a dark-haired young woman sits at a table, watching him. Despite the warmer weather outside, she's dressed in a long-sleeved shirt, and has a colorful scarf tied around her throat. The long fall of her hair hides the burn scars on one side of her face.

Eventually, 'Meg' intends to repay Castiel for that painful insult, but not now. No, now she's focused on someone else entirely.

The fact that she owes Andrew Wells for his trick with the demon Dvasha is merely a bonus. Sometimes 'Meg' truly loves her work.

no subject

Meg glances around the room quickly, catching the eyes of her strike team. One man is stationed by the lake door; the other by the front door. Each of them has a hellhound at his side, seated and watching.

She hadn't expected the hounds to be visible, but this place has rules of its own. She barely represses a sneer at the thought. Still, it doesn't change the plan.

Meg looks away from the one at the front, then gets up from her chair and starts to make her way across the room, toward Andrew.

At her signal, the first hound is released to dart across the room from the front door to join its partner at the back.

Surely it's only a coincidence that it does so in such a way that it will knock its lean body against her legs as she draws near Wells, tripping her so that she falls against him.

no subject

Meg flicks the fingers of her free hand behind her back in a quick sign, and the henchman by the front door begins to slowly drift from that position, moving through the crowd in such a way that they're between him and the stairs, and he's between them and escape.

As they draw near the stairs, the second dog gets to its feet. A low growl comes from under the table, and it steps into view between them and the lake door.

no subject

He doesn't see the expression on her face; his gaze is fixed on the hellhound, only briefly flicking around the room to see who else is here. No Security in sight, no one in the immediate vicinity; not a lot of options.

"Head for the stairs," he says out of the side of his mouth, "I'm gonna call for Security."